


Stitch

by honeydewed



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Autumn, F/M, Link loves the autumn because it reminds him of his favorite redhead, malink, nonverbal link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 06:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeydewed/pseuds/honeydewed
Summary: Link minds the cloak Malon made for him.





	Stitch

**Author's Note:**

> Link and Malon and the Zelda franchise belong to Nintendo and I'm in no way affiliated with them. I don't own these characters, Nintendo does. I hope you enjoy!

He didn't notice until he rode back to the ranch something caught along his cloak. She worked so hard on it and seeing the fabric torn and frayed sent a wave of panic through him. She scolded him over injuries or harm on his person but she always hemmed and hawed when it came to his clothing. Despite her not being a tailor by trade she would tell him time and time again she'd do it free of charge. Unless he wished to have something commissioned or made for a special occasion he took everything to her. Hats, trousers, tunics, and in this case cloaks. 

Working on the ranch cleared his mind. Patrols were lonely and he wasn't fit for partnering up with others. He took orders well and always made sure to watch the backs of his companions but he knew he was far from the best conversationalist. He didn't mind mucking stalls or clearing out the pasture. He even liked milking cows and so long as he wasn't collecting eggs or culling cuccos he didn't complain. Repairing a fence he held a nail between his teeth and lips and eyed the final beam making sure it was level. Admiring his handiwork he mopped his brow and pressed his hands along his hips. 

A cool wind raced through the field and he shivered. "Oh, you'll catch your death!" Link's sharp ears heard her coming before she called out to him but he only turned when she drew closer, worried and a sweet satisfaction arose knowing he garnered her attention. Her pretty face was pinched with concern and he should bemoan putting such a pout on the rancher but she looked lovely as ever even though she tutted at him. Pushing off from his perch like a raven taking flight he stood tall and proud before lowering himself. Malon's hands clung to a red cloak and she cast it across his shoulders and bundled him up as a mother encased her child in a blanket on a night gripped by autumn's chill. Countless monsters were felled by his hands and brought to their knees but only she could get him to submit. 

Link never knew of autumn until he left the safe haven of the Kokiri. The Lost Woods were perpetually celebrating spring and summertime. They never knew winter, and they never knew cold. Link's boyhood was spent in reverent awe of the world both in its ugliness but also because it could be so beautiful. If he loved anything more than Hyrule, it was Malon. If he loved anything to come close to either he loved autumn. Link ached for spring to see the renewed blossoms cast off their shy winter clothes and color the world. Summertime reminded Link of his youth spent lazing around with the eternal children as he ate apples and dreamed. Link hardly fared well in cold he shivered and shook something fierce if he was exposed to it. The cold clogged his nose, made his teeth chatter, and practically rendered him immobile but the cool embrace of autumn was something he could enjoy. Before it even became chilly she presented him with a gift. Within a few weeks of owning it he snagged it on something.

Malon's gorgeous hair reminded Link of the changing trees. The freckles on her skin were reminiscent of brown sugar sprinkled here and there across a sweet dessert. He loved apples and everyone seemed to make everything out of apples in the autumn. They prepared jams, preserves, pies, and he'd eat his weight's worth in all of them if he could. Link vied for Malon's baking and made sure to show he was working extra hard and worthy of such a treat. Showing off wasn't in his nature but he flexed in her presence and always seemed to push himself to his limit. Malon drew the clasp and closed it as she pat at his shoulders. "There!" pleased with her work Malon's blue eyes studied him as she found the words to scold him, "Even if you work up a sweat if you're still for too long you'll catch cold." That didn't sound to bad. When he fell ill she'd brew him cucco soup and dab his forehead with a cool cloth. She buried him in blankets and stayed by his side until he was well. Falling ill if it meant she'd be his nurse didn't sound bad. He'd be good as new if he downed a red potion but she forbade the concoctions in her home. Home remedies and recipes from Talon's grandmother's cookbook were all she needed to nurse a patient back to full health even if it wasn't instantaneous. 

Link crossed a hand atop his heart and bowed his head hoping to apologize properly through working. Malon either chose not to admonish him or was pleased he'd done as she'd told him to. "It's brisk now," she commented as she tightened her own cloak, the same mustard color as her favorite kerchief. "I patched that up for you, you mustn't tear it, or you'll look like you're wearing a quilt," not that she minded mending anything for him. The brilliant color she chose to cut the fabric from made Link think of maple leaves and holly berries. 

A hand unburdened by his gauntlet nestled in her hair as he ruffled it, he was sure red was his favorite color.

She swat his hand away playfully. "Off with you!" she laughed as he caught her by the wrist. His dirty thumb pressed against the fabric of her long sleeved blouse and skin that lead towards her hand. She should have been wearing gloves but he was pleased to feel her hand unprotected. He liked the colder months because after a long day she'd bathe her hands in lotion to keep the skin from cracking further and the scent and touch of her skin was one he craved. Some mornings before work she'd lotion her hands and cover them with her work gloves and they'd be soft all day. His lips caught her pulse as he was sure he smelled lavender. 

"Say, tell you what, you keep that in good condition the rest of the week and I'll bake you a nice pie," she reached out to him her palm pressing against his face as she watched him nod eagerly at the proposal. "Apple," she cheerfully beamed. "That'll be a nice one to make. I need to finish making preserves and apple sauce but if you give me a list of anything you'd like I'll make it." She'd make anything for him, his heart fluttered. As much as he enjoyed devouring what she created he liked watching her face as he took the first bite. Link vowed to be careful. 

The next morning he left, there were reports of wolfos attacking local farmers. He tore the fabric out of the way as their jaws attempted to clasp the fabric between their fangs. He evaded the clutch of Stalchildren once night descended and vigorously avoided their grip. He shielded himself from any enemy attack and proudly strut around with the fabric on his back and shoulders. He wasn't a vain man but puffed with pride when anyone said they liked his cloak. By the end of the week he cantered back to his little lady's home and watched as she waved from the gate. 

He dismounted from Epona and held up his cloak for inspection, turning this way and that as she lifted the fabric and checked for any sneakily made stitches. "You did it!" she praised him as she walked by his side. "I had a feeling you wouldn't let me down, I already made your pie. Let's put Epona away and you can eat it, I've got it cooling for you." He passed by the window with the horse and ran his tongue over his lips. As he opened up the gate to the corral he heard her say, "Would you mind looking at the gate a little later? I think it might need-" He closed the gate once Epona was inside and heard a distinct RIP! from behind him. A nail snagged the edge of his cloak. By the time Link turned around a run from the bottom and a few inches up were made. Link's heart stopped and he looked at Malon with a pair of pleading eyes. 

* * *

 

Link sat in the kitchen as his fourth bite of pie sweetened his mouth. Malon sat across from him with his cloak in her lap and needle at hand. 


End file.
